Page 71 of Trap ’N’ Trace

Since telling Dayne she hated him, they hadn’t spoken. “Oh my god,” she groaned. She couldn’t believe she had actually said that. Right on the heels of calling him a Neanderthal. Her behavior had been inexcusable. “He just makes me so angry.”

“Who does?” Emily paused in the doorway then came in and sat on a chair.

“Dayne,” she admitted, pressing two fingers to her forehead.

“What did he do?” Emily set Kat’s scheduler on the desk.

“Nothing. Not really.” She stood and walked to the window, staring at the whitecaps dotting the river. “It wasn’t his fault. He was only doing his job.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

When she turned back to Emily, the corners of her friend’s mouth lifted. “The problem is, he makes me so angry that I say things to him I’ve never said to anyone. I just open my mouth and blurt out whatever I feel. Unabridged and inappropriate.” And she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or stop wanting him.

“Sounds like he’s getting to you.”

“Exactly.” She dropped heavily onto her chair. “When I’m around him, everything I’ve been taught to keep inside comes bubbling to the surface like a witch’s cauldron, and that’s the way I behaved today. Like a total witch.” Bitch, more like it.

“Why do you think that is?” Angus brought Emily his toy and she tossed it to the far side of the office for him to chase.

“I don’t know.” She stared at her scheduler, not really seeing it.

“I don’t mean to go all psycho-babble on you, but sometimes anger is just anger because someone has done you wrong. Other times, people make you angry because you care more about them and what they think of you.”

Did she? Care what Dayne thought of her?

Yes. But he couldn’t possibly return the sentiment. Not that she’d given him any reason to, lately.

“I know that face.” Emily stood. “It’s the face of a woman who just figured out the answer to her questions.”

“I suppose so. Thank you, Doctor Emily.”

“My pleasure. And I won’t even charge you a co-payment.” They both laughed, easing some of the tension. “Make sure to review your scheduler.”

“I will, Em. Bye.”

Kat focused on the scheduler and smiled. Today was one of her favorite days of the year. Opening Day at Yankee Stadium. First pitch was at 1:10 p.m.

All those season openers with her parents in their luxury corporate suite overlooking the stadium… Before her mother and father died, it was a family ritual. Six months after burying them, she sold the suite but still watched every season opener on TV.

She flipped the page in her scheduler and frowned. Three weeks from this Saturday’s event was her birthday. Colin had planned a big bash in her honor. Celebrating was the last thing she wanted. Amy was dead. Another woman murdered. With everything going on, a party seemed like the height of bad taste, and her heart wasn’t in it.

The heaviness in her chest worsened. Given the tone of her last conversation with Colin, maybe he’d cancel the event altogether. It would probably be for the best.

The front door opened then closed again. Angus perked his head up. Remy trotted in and the puppy bounded to the shepherd, licking her face and nipping her legs. Both dogs trotted out, leaving her alone again.

She picked up a gold-plated pen and began tapping it louder and louder on the scheduler. Concentrating was easier said than done. Knowing Dayne was in the house made her tense.

Somehow, she managed to review documents Emily had left for her, and before she knew it thirty minutes had gone by. It was now 1:05 p.m. Five minutes before first pitch.

She closed the scheduler and went into the living room. The TV was already on and tuned to the game. Dayne stood in front of the kitchen island. “I see you found the big screen.”

A smile lit his face. “I did, and it’s kick-ass.”

She knew that smile wasn’t directed at her but rather at the giant 80-inch flat-screen TV normally hidden away in a specially made mahogany credenza. When fully extended, the massive screen took up half the wall. Still, that smile made her belly flutter.

A wonderful scent filled the air. Cookies? She followed the heavenly smell into the kitchen, unable to contain the shock in her voice. “You bake?”

Dayne gave her a wry look. “I told you I have hidden talents.” He pulled a tray from the oven and set it on the cooktop. “My mother—Renee—taught Lily and I how to bake. It was one of the first things she did with us after we got adopted. Helped us all to bond. Nothing fancy, mostly cookies, brownies, cakes, and pies.”